


When The Snake Met The Honey Badger

by JailynnW



Series: Challenges- Trope Mash Ups [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Friendship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter x Game of thrones, Hufflepuff!Brienne, Mystery, Rating May Change, Rating right now is for later, Slytherin!Jaime, Strangers to Friends, Trope Challenge, Trope mash Up, Witches and Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 20:44:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21344455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/pseuds/JailynnW
Summary: Brienne is a third year Hufflepuff just trying to get through without too much trouble or attention from Ramsey. Jaime is a fifth year Slytherin trying to live up to his family name, be the best beater in Hogwarts and just pass hisfreaking OWLS!They move in different circles. But life has a way of bringing people together in the most unexpected ways. What happens when paths cross and the snake meets the honey badger?***********This is for River_Melody_Pond. I really hope you like it.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Challenges- Trope Mash Ups [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534163
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	When The Snake Met The Honey Badger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [River_Melody_Pond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Melody_Pond/gifts).

> This is for River_Melody_Pond who challenged me with Magical accident/awful first meeting. I really hope I met the challenge and you enjoy the story. Please let me know what you think!! This is not edited by my wonderful beta, only me, so I'm sorry for the mistakes... I'm sure I missed a lot

[ ](https://imgur.com/Z1tOw9E)

**Title: When The Snake Met The Honey Badger**

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Prompt: Magical accident/ awful first meeting

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Chapter 1: A Badger and A Snake 

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“Shit, shit, shit,” she chanted softly, bouncing up and down, shaking her burnt hand. She looked down at the reddening flesh and felt tears well up in her eyes. Brienne glanced at the book in front of her and the cauldron next to it. Her eyes shifted over to some of the other students in her class. Everyone else seemed completely at ease with what they were doing. Brienne Tarth grimaced. She hated potion making. She was so much more suited to dueling and quidditch. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and whispered to herself, “calm down. Don’t let them know how bad you are at this.”

“What is that smell,” Professor Bolton snarled from at the front of the room. 

Brienne glanced down and realized it was probably her cauldron causing the stench. The teacher rose from his desk and moved around the room, checking each students creation. She searched wildly around her as panic gripped her. Her best friends, Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell, looked over at her. Sansa pointed quickly at the newts scale next to her left hand. Brienne grabbed a pinch of it and tossed it into the boiling potion. The smell decreased- thankfully- but now there was a purple smoke billowing from the pot. 

Her heart sank as the professor’s eyes swung to her table. A thin smile curled on his cruel face. The Potion’s master moved over to her, his cloak flying behind him like a black curtain. Her heart slammed against the bones of her ribs. She just knew this would not end well. Professor Bolton hated her. She was everything the Master of Potions despised. The man that all students, who were not in his house of Slytherin, feared. When he turned his pale eyes on you, you knew trouble would come. 

Stories were told in the dead of night to first years, that he flayed men during the wars with a spell of his making. And that he made deadly potions in his spare time to be prepared should war happen again. Brienne didn’t know what to believe, but she was not completely closed off to the idea it was true. She prayed to any being listening that he would not come any closer or that the shelves behind her would suddenly fall on her head. She picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the contents of her cauldron. The purple smoke was going away and the boiling liquid was turning a light green color. 

“Miss Tarth,” his voice was never loud, but still somehow frightening. “Can you not even follow the easiest of potions?” Her tongue felt thick and her mouth was dry. She tried to swallow and speak but nothing came out. “Dull of the mind I see,” he said to the snickers of the other third years. Her face flushed. “Thirty points from Hufflepuff.” 

“But…” she found her voice at the worse moment. His pale gray eyes narrowed and she went silent again.

“Did you have something to say, Tarth?” She shook her head, strands of her almost white blonde hair coming free from her bun to fall in her face. “Hmm, I thought not.”

He returned to the front of the class and she lowered further in her seat. The eyes of the other Hufflepuffs were on her and she wanted to cry. Brienne had cost them precious House points and now they would never catch up with Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Her vision blurred and she bit at her lip causing it to bleed. She would make up for her mistake. Somehow she would get those points back and gain more. She just didn’t know how… at least not yet.

The class continued to make their potions and Brienne tried to do everything else perfectly. She could not cost them any more points than she already had. The cauldron boiled constantly as she added more beetle wings to the mix. At this point she didn’t know what she was making but she was fairly sure it was not what the class had been assigned. 

Frustration built inside of her. She couldn’t believe she messed up so bad doing a potion that everyone else seemed to have no problem with. Her hand shook as she poured in the last of the ingredients and stirred what she had made. Professor Bolton sneered at all the Hufflepuff’s but seemed to take special pleasure in making _her_ feel small.

“That is enough for today,” he said in his hushed tone. “Put your cauldrons away and clean your stations. We will continue the lesson tomorrow.”

Relief flooded through her. She would get to leave this cold dungeon and this horrible disaster soon. Her movements in cleaning up were efficient and quick. Brienne wanted to leave as quick as possible. Margaery and Sansa waited for her as she finished up and she was thankful at least they wouldn’t make fun of her snafu. 

Brienne placed her cauldron on the stand and turned to meet her friends when she ran right into one of the Slytherin’s, Ramsey Bolton- the son of their professor. The mean boy with dark eyes- almost black, like his soul- or at least that’s what Brienne thought, and dark hair sneered at her in the way his father had. She watched him carefully. He never seemed right to her. 

“Excuse me,” she mumbled to get away. Her skin crawled with him so close.

He shifted to block her way. “Beauty,” he said mockingly. That was the name he gave her their first year. It was said as a joke because Brienne was not a beauty by any standard. Her too broad face, large teeth and mouth and tall body made her one of the most unfortunate to look upon students. “I have a gift for you.”

The hair on her arms stood up and she swallowed. She wanted nothing from him. She preferred him to forget she existed quite honestly. But she was never going to be that lucky. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“You wound me, beauty,” she made to move past him again and his hand shot out. She gasped as he took a hold of her upper arm hard and leaned in close. “You should not refuse a gift from a man. Merlin knows, you will not receive many.”

Her blue eyes sharpen and her large lips open to tell him where exactly he could go shove his present when Professor Bolton appeared. “What is going on here?”

Ramsey let go of her arm and took a step back. His black eyes never left hers. “Nothing.” He paused. “Professor.”

“Yes,” she agreed, rubbing her arm. “Nothing.” And with that she rushed away to meet her friends. Sansa looked concerned and Margaery glared over her shoulder at Ramsey. Brienne urged them to leave. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Ramsey Bolton. “Let’s go. Lunch is about to be served.”

Sansa nodded her head, her red hair falling over her shoulders as she did. Margaery stood at the door a little longer, her hazel eyes shooting daggers at Ramsey. Brienne finally grabbed her hand to pull her from the door. 

“He’s a creep,” the brunette said hotly. “Why does he pick on you so much, Brie?”

Brienne shrugged. “I’m an easy target. Ugly and tall and slow minded.”

“You are none of those things,” Sansa assured her before adding, “well except tall. Because you are that.”

Brienne sighed as they entered the great hall and took their seats at Hufflepuff’s table. “It doesn’t matter. I would rather him pick on me than some of the younger kids.”

“You are too nice,” the red-head said. “You should kick him during a quidditch match when you finally make the team.”

“Oh I like that,” Margaery grinned, pouring pumpkin juice into her cup. “He is so bad at the sport, everyone will think he just fell off his broom.”

Brienne laughed, “I’m not going to intentionally harm another player.” She poured some juice into her own cup and sighed. “If I make the team.”

“Too nice,” Sansa sing-songed at her. “And of course you will! We need a new beater since Loras graduated.”

“And you are better than my brother was,” Margaery said. Brienne shrugged, flushing at the praise. “You know you are. Loras knew too.”

“Still,” Brienne shook her head. “It does not mean I will make the team. There are other students that want the spot and might be more skilled than me.”

“Ugh,” Sansa laughed. “Can you stop!?! You must have more confidence in your own brilliance on a broom. Jon and Robb both said they wished you would have been sorted into Gryffindor so that you could have helped them win last year.”

“Your brothers did quite well,” the blonde commented, placing a turkey and cheese sandwich on her plate. “They won the Quidditch cup and the house cup.”

“They almost didn’t,” Margaery licked the juice from the peach she was eating from her fingers. “Jaime Lannister’s last score was pretty impressive.”

“You think all things Jaime Lannister does are impressive,” Sansa grinned at her.

Margaery shrugged. “He is pretty to look at.”

“How can you see anything past his ego,” Brienne grumbled.

“You don’t know he has an ego,” at the blonde’s look, Margaery rolled her eyes. “Or _that_ big of an ego. We don’t know him at all.”

“That’s because he is a fifth year and would never look at third years.”

“Why would we want him to,” Brienne took a large bite out of her sandwich. Her friends stared at her. “What?”

“Did I mention he is pretty to look at?” Margaery asked.

“So is Loras…”

“Renly agrees,” Margaery giggled.

“And Jon,” Brienne continued.

“Ygritte would have your tongue,” Sansa smirked. “She’s very possessive.”

“And Robb,” the blonde spurred on.

“Do you have a thing for our brothers?” Margaery arched her eyebrows.

“No,” Brienne blushed. She did have a crush on Renly when she was a first year, but that got crushed when she saw him locked in a heavy embrace with Loras behind the greenhouses. “I’m just pointing out that others are pretty to look at as well. And they don’t act better than everyone else.”

“Okay, fine,” Sansa conceded. Her younger sister sat beside her and grinned at them. Arya looked nothing like Sansa. Where Sansa was tall and waif like with red hair and blue eyes, her sister was stockier and had darker hair and eyes. She looked a lot like their father and older brother Jon. “What do you want Arya?”

“Nothing,” she said with mischief in her eyes.

All three of the third years waited for whatever would come next. They didn’t wait long as Arya jumped up and shoved something down Sansa’s robes. The red head shrieked as a toad leaped from the black fabric and onto the table. Ayra ran away to her friends Hotpie - a nickname Brienne didn’t understand- and Gentry. Sansa stood quickly, her face as red as her hair.

“I swear she should have been in Slytherin!” 

Margaery smirked, “My house would probably have been a better fit for her, it’s true.”

Brienne pressed her lips together to stop from laughing. She gathered the toad up and put it on the floor. The creature hopped out of the Great Hall in large jumps. “I have never understood how you could be sorted into that house,” Brienne commented. They have been friends for years and when they arrived at Hogwarts it surprised them all that they would not be in the same dorm. “Loras was a Hufflepuff.”

“I think the sorting hat lied on that,” Margaery said with a roll of her eyes. “He has a mean streak in him.”

“He probably got sorted into our house because _Renly_ got sorted into our house,” Sansa said while still checking her robes for any other creatures her sister might have stuck down them. “The sorting hat _knew_.”

“Okay, first, that’s gross,” Margaery said to the laughter of her friends. “And second, stop freaking out. The toad is gone.”

Sansa pouted, “I still feel it…”

The three friends finished their food quickly and then walked back to the Hufflepuff common room.

“I need a shower,” Sansa mumbled. “And new skin.”

“Madame Pomfrey could probably do that,” Brienne said with a small smile.

They stopped at the nook on the right side of the kitchen corridor. The door to their common room was blocked by several barrels. Brienne stepped forward and tapped the barrel two from the bottom of the middle row. The tapping took on a rhythm of their House’s originator, Helga Hufflepuff. A lid swung open and exposed the passageway into the basement. The girls crawled through the hole and reemerged in the warm and inviting space. The friends fell into some of the overstuffed chairs and sighed.

“I really hope transfiguration goes better than potions did,” Brienne said closing her eyes.

“What happened with the potion?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I thought I mixed it right, but then… It just came out wrong.” She opened her eyes and looked at her friends. “I fear what awaits me tomorrow.”

“I might not be that bad,” Sansa said hopefully. “Maybe adding the newts scales helped balance it.”

“I hope so,” she rolled her large shoulders and squinted her eyes. “At least Professor Karstark won’t try and murder me with her glare.”

“That is true,” Margaery nodded. “That only happens in the dungeons.”

Brienne nodded in agreement and closed her eyes again. Might as well take a nap before the next class begins.

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Jaime Lannister walked down the halls of Hogwarts confidently. He smiled indulgently at the girls that giggled and blushed. Inside he was rolling his green eyes. He pushed his blonde hair back and took the stairs two at a time. He needed to hurry before Cersei knew he was gone. He looked over his shoulder once he made it to the right corridor and tapped his wand against the wall.

The bricks shifted and moved to reveal a door. He looked behind him again and then opened the door quickly. A small boy sat in a chair in the middle of the room. His face in a book as he ate a chocolate frog. 

“Tyrion,” Jaime grinned. 

His brother raised his head from the novel in his hands and grinned at him. His mismatched green and black eyes were bright. “Jaime! How is my favorite brother?”

Jaime took a seat across from him and shrugged. “As good as can be expected with father screaming at me about OWLS. He knows I will not do well.”

“You will pass, Jaime,” Tyrion whispered a spell and a place holder appeared in his book. He closed the large volume. “Potions will be high marks for sure.”

“Only because Professor Bolton is scared of father.” Jaime tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “If it wasn’t for that, I would be failing all my classes.”

Tyrion’s lips turned down. “Cersei is in your head, dear brother.” Jaime glared at his younger brother. “What?” the dwarf asked. “Are you saying those aren’t her words?” He looked away, refusing to tell Tyrion he was right. “You are smarter than you give yourself credit for, Jaime. Do not let our sister lead you to believe otherwise.”

“No,” Jaime shook his head. “You are smart. She is cunning. And I’m…good at Quidditch.”

“You are more than a beater,” Tyrion got up from his chair and walked over to him. “You will do well on your OWLS. I believe that. But if you need help,” he waved his arms around. “This is the Room of Requirement. It will keep your secrets as it has kept mine.”

“I wish we did not have to meet in secret,” he said sadly. “I wish you could sit at our side in the Great Hall.”

Tyrion smiled a bit sadder. “Even if I had been sorted into Slytherin as you and Cersei were. I would not have been welcome at your side. You know Cersei would never allow the monster of the family to darken her table. She only does at home because father forces her to.”

Jaime wanted to rebuke his brother’s claims about their sister, but he couldn’t. His other half, his mirror image, hated their baby brother for the sin of being born and their mother dying. Ever since the first moment he opened his eyes, Tyrion has been a target of Cersei’s. Her venom dripped with each carefully placed word. Jaime tried at first to stop her from blaming Tyrion, but after a while gave up. She was set in her ways and would never change direction. 

“Besides,” Tyrion grinned, his voice bringing Jaime back to the present. “Ravenclaw fits me better wouldn’t you agree?”

Jaime nodded with a soft smile. “It does.” He hugged his brother and sighed. Cersei would notice him gone and question him if he did not leave soon and return to the Slytherin common room. “I have…”

“I know,” Tyrion replied. “It was good seeing you, brother.”

“Until next time?”

“Until next time.”

Jaime stood and walked to the door. His path back to his common room was less direct than the one to meet with Tyrion. He walked up and down many moving staircases to ensure he would not be questioned by anyone he knew. He was passing the Transfiguration room when he slammed into a tall blur of yellow and black. The person ran down the hall away from him with only a quick, “Sorry,” thrown over their shoulder.

His eyes narrowed and he smoothed the front of his robes. He heard two laughing voices off to the side and turned to see who it was. Ramsey and his lackey Euron Greyjoy were standing off in a darkened alcove. Jaime felt a chill run down his spine as he locked eyes with Ramsey. The younger boy grinned fully, his yellow teeth large in his mouth. Jaime was not fond of Professor Bolton’s kid. He was cruel and there was something down right evil about him. He walked over to the boys and stood tall over them.

“What did you do?”

Ramsey grinned even larger, if that was possible. “I gave my beauty a present.”

Euron guffawed loudly and both boys left for the Slytherin dungeons. Jaime shuddered. He didn’t know what that meant, _gave his beauty a present,_ but he knew it couldn’t have been good for the girl in question. He made it back to the common room as Ramsey was retelling the story for some of the other third years.

“The beauty did not know what hit her,” he laughed as Jaime stood back to listen. “The ugly bitch will have a nasty scar at least until that dumb nurse can heal it.”

“Should have done something more permanent,” a girl with lifeless brown hair said. He didn’t know her nor did he care to. “She’s so ugly it might help her.”

“Eh,” Euron laughed. “Nothing can help that beast!” More laughter. “Except a new face.”

“And body,” Ramsey smirked. Jaime shivered again. He took out his wand and gripped the handle. Ramsey lifted his cup of juice and Jaime whispered the spell to make the drink fly into the cruel kid’s face. His other third years laughed harder until he glared at each of them. “Which one of you did that?”

“I did,” Jaime said. He pushed off from the wall he was leaning on. “You are a dumbass you know that! If you cost us House points…”

“Oh shut up, Lannister!” Ramsey snarled. “It was just a fucking Hufflepuff. No one cares about her. And no one knows it was me.”

“They will if you keep telling the story so loudly,” Jaime growled. Ramsey glared but shut his mouth. “Don’t fuck around with our House points! I’m fucking tired losing to Gryffindor!” He spun on his heel and walked into the fifth year’s dorms. His blood was hot and he felt like he needed a shower. There was definitely something wrong with that kid.

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End file.
